Butte semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1886-1890, 1887-01-05
A CLOUDY DAWN.

A CLOUDY DAWN.
SThere II the corncrake; it Is in the hon
, meadow" said ], pausing to listen, ; Il
harsh, grating, but most summerliks
sounds came clearly through tho warm, Ct
air this june evening, mingling with the voic
Of the children playing in the garden.
Mrs Hartley listened too, and a look can
into her eyes a though she raw some otht
scene than the sunny garden and fair, gree
fields beyond, and the frightening shadow
cast by the elms, their leaves glancing Eolde
in the setting sun.
Y I was sitting in the old-fashioned parlol
with its heavy oak beams across tho ceiling
its dark, polished furniture and old chin
bowls full of dried rose leaves and wide-ope,
latticed windows, through which foated tn
scent Of mignonette and pinks, while Mr.
Hartley brought out the sweet hone-Inad
cake and frothing new milk IN . quaint n.u,
Of old china.
AYE" said Mrs. Hartley: "the corncrake
So it is, Miss Nelly; 50 it is"
Something in her voice struck me.
"Does it make you sad! I asked. II lik.
to hear the bird, though it does make such
strange noise; it always reminds lie Of sum
mer evenings when the grass is long"
Eyes; that's when it comes. You nevel
hear it after the grass is cut. It reminds me-
o my young days, Miss Nelly"
I mind we'll hearing the corncrake that
hummer when my mother died, and l thought
the sun would never shine fair on me again,
so full o trouble and death was it-many q
long year ago now. Mother had been ill a
long while, and was nigh dying, for her life
seemed to 60 as the grass grew, and we knew
| she would never bide here till the fall o the
leaf. Father was a gamekeeper and we lived
In that cottage by Northover woods. Me- and
Tom Marsden-he was he blacksmith at
Northever-had been counting a long while,
with fathers consent, for Tom was well
and the forge was his owl. l thought a deal
Of him, for he was good to look at, and
strong; never a lad in the village could come
nigh him for looks or strength. And when I
first knew him he was main steady and well
thought Of by all But there was a bad lot
o fellows in Northover-poachers and SUCH
bke-and, somehow, Tom got In with 'em.
Father he spoke to Tom about it, for no said:
Its no good thinkin' tina can pla' wi mud,
and keep thy own clothes clean; some on it
will stick for sure!"
Tom laughed and told father he could take
care of himself, and as for catching a stray
rabbit or bird,, it were a bit C. fun on a dark
night, and no harm in it either.
Says father:
"Thou'lt not find it q bit O. fun if I catch |
thee at it"
So they parted in anger, and father came |
saying l must think no more o. Tom, |
for that he couldna let his lass wed a poacher. |
That evening when the dusk was falling I |
sat by mothers bedside thinking of it all. |
Father was out in the woods and mother
asleep, so the house was very still, and all ths
windows open, for it was this timo o year.
And | heard the corncrake in the field nigh
the cottage as plain as now, sometimes quite
near and sometimes farther away, as it ran
about in the long grass. Presently. it stopped
croaking, as though something had startled
It, and then there was q little rattle BY
The lattice like bits o. gravel thrown 10.
got up softly not to disturb mother, and
cooked out, and there stood Tom against the
with a gun in his hand.
II thought to have seen thee at shutdown
Eanice lass" he said; "Ivs been waitin' this
lalf hour by the brook"
II couldna leave mother" ] says; she's
worse and weaker than a while back, and
ather is gone into the woods. He's main
Ingered with thee, Tom"
Oh aye" he says, its about the birds
nut it's naught."
I shook my head.
"Father says he'll not bave me wed thee il
hou dost not mend thy ways and leave going
With them poaching fellows. What dost
hon want with them7 Thou never used to
eel such like"
"'Tis naught to fret about, lass; they're
one so bad as thy father thinks. I'll get
nut on 'em when we're we'd"
"What art thou doing with a gun r. l asked
i'm. :
"Nay, lass, thou art getting too curious
lay he I'm going shooting litter MICE" be
lys, laughing.
"Ihoult break my heart, Tom,n I a
what with mother nigh to death, and father
1gered with thee, and thou going on this
I'm sorry thy mother is no better, En-. p
&c" be says; "but as for the rest, there's :
'ught to fret about. I'll come and sec thes =
And be went of smiling and waving his g
nd as he turned down by the copse. Then 10
9 corncrake began again, croak, croak, all y
und the meadow, and l sat and watched oil
other with a heavy heart till the stars came d,
t, and a young moon lying OH her back, IN
nch was an Ill sign, for you know the say OF
3: pf
When the moons like a boat, ar
There Is trouble af1oat. tn
but l hoped it might not be for me. The br
rncrake had gone and there was naugbt to ~
heard save the rustling O the grass and pa
es. The wind had turned a little chill, 50 I ~
sed the lattice and lay me down by mothe, 1I
while. l had been asleep some time, for the -
was low in the sky and the dawn break w
when l awoke with hearing a trampline tn
.eet coming down the lane. I listened, and an
trampling came nearer and sounded heavy ba
as If they were carrying something. Il all
pped at the gate, and then I heard the click py
ne latch. Mothers room was at the back. de-
It was no use looking out o. the lattice. pa
creeping softly down stairs when mother tuI
oke and asked if father had come in. ma
| think he's coming now, MOTHER said wa
fetch thee a cup O. tea" and l went down me
opened the door, and there stood one q; ~,
keepers, William Balshaw, as married nv ~,
sin Anne. ~
Where's fatherf' I said, trying to look Oh,
t him. on,
See now, Eunice, he says, thou nun keen hu,
rave heart, lass How is thy motberr poi
She's no better, and asking for father.n exr
veil, thou mum put her off. I've ill news the
thee, poor lass; thy mother must know OF
ght OF it. There's been a bit O. fight with ma
n northern chaps, an'-an' we've browt eS
father home" ahc
y heart seemed to turn to a stone. "rs .m'.
er killedT'I asked. Thou NAV as we'll daa
William" nnr
aye, that is 50. I'm main sorry for thee. acc,
ice. III tell EN- to bring him in and Law will
on the settle here, and I'll send Anne onl,
ID to thee" Hal
18th that they carried father in and laid by
the settle. He was very peacefuLlke
Ok at. William said h had been Shot in -
hest, and died quite quiet and easy. But
be while l seemed to know there was more II
ear-aye, and worse, for when I was ore
'ing over father, one Of the men said Mea
thing to William that I didn't rightly assa
J., and William says back to him, s,eak- lnst
NAY, there's no call to say more inst con- n,
poor lass; it'll do by and bv.n With o.n..
they went away, and I took mother be, -.
all dazed like. ha
here's thy father, Eunices" she savs ho'i
d l answered her: Gu